Monday, May 12, 2014

Wilt Pheromone


Hmmm, this one has potential.

He’s a sex worker, comes into contact with pimps and lowlife on the job — and solves  crimes.

Always accompanied by his dwarf poodle, Bobby.  Frail since birth, Bobby often places Wilt in danger.

Possible plots:

* The Fake Dildo Heist.  Wilt and Bobby get trapped in a cargo hold full of contraband, destination PERU.  Lots of killer gnats and ladyboys armed with machetes.

* The Man With The Golden Cock Ring.  An octogenarian porn star has his final wicked way with the world by contaminating the LA water supply with...what?  Poison is too “Batman”, and there’s no good reason why he’d do that (or rationale behind obtaining, then releasing, said poison), and semen — though apt — lacks the threat of necessary deadliness AND is kind of creepy and eeeew.  WHATEVER the octogenarian porn star is up to, Wilt and Bobby are trapped in a lift and the bad guy’s cock ring is electrified or something.  So there’s a scene a bit like the one with the buzzsaw in Goldfinger, only Wilt is strapped to a bed, his manhood handcuffed by a cock ring connected to the mains.  The bad guy cackles and says, “time to fry, Mr Pheromone” while Bobby yaps haplessly from a chained suitcase.  Oh, and there’s dancing girls.

Naturally, Wilt has an Achilles heel.  He’s butch, roguish, sensual and well hung, but ever since an unfortunate on-screen session with Mellony Nipcheese and Daphne Amazonbags involving a faulty penis enlargement suite, his erections have been intermittent.

So when he’s battling evil, at the back of his mind there is niggling doubt.

More plots:

* The Lubricated Gimp.  No one knows who he is.  All we know is: he hates porn.  He creeps onto the set, squirms his way into the action, and throws the scene  — all at great cost to the film production company.  Then he slithers away on a slime trail of KY jelly.  Only Wilt Pheromone can catch him.  But it’s a bad week, a floppy week, and his wobbly mojo is no match for the moral crusader in the nylon lederhosen.

* Stunnas In A Flap.  An unpleasant new sexually transmitted disease has wreaked havoc on the girls of Finewood Studios.  Foul play is suspected, and Wilt arrives on the scene with a rucksack full of illegal bug-busting pharmaceuticals.  But Bobby is hit by a wayward camera boom and threatened with permanent brain damage.  Wilt’s dilemma is the worst he’s ever encountered.  Rush his faithful pet to the emergency dog hospital — or endeavour to do something spectacular with the first semi he’s had in a fortnight?

So, yes, Wilt lives in London, in a flat like Sherlock & Watson — only no Una Stubbs style housemaid.  His servant is a fat Chinese guy.  Great cook, master of kung fu — but blind.

Wilt also owns a raft.  It features in some of the water-based adventures on the Thames.  It has a motor attached, and a pirate flag and stuff.  Only problem is, Wilt has no raft licence and he’s always getting chased by the river police.

Ah!  I’m getting dialogue now, I’m getting dialogue...

The officer hurled a megaphone to his lips.  “Stop the raft.  It’s illegal.  Hands up — or we’ll shoot.”

“Hey, I’m the one who does the shooting around here,” cried Wilt, “or at least I did until my accident.”  He revved up the motor and turned his wickerwork monstrosity towards St Paul’s Cathedral.  “Stop me if you must, river cops, but I’ve got a posse of fat ass chicks to save from  a drug-crazed sex fiend in a Dracula outfit — and thanks to my dog being laid up with a mystery dysentery-based illness along with Wong, my faithful non-Una Stubbs manservant, I’ve got to go it alone.  And only partially on the bone.”

Hmmmm.  Maybe this one does have potential... 


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